


Dossier: Angry Pink Monster

by ramblingAnthropologist



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Al has a new XO now, Bo is crucial to Al, Gen, Mass Effect 2, Miranda gets punched in the face after this; Bo isn't a fan, That's right there's two Shepards, This is the fic I promised now shh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 07:56:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13829835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblingAnthropologist/pseuds/ramblingAnthropologist
Summary: Alistair Shepard’s got a team to build, so he finds himself in a shitty underground Krogan wrestling ring. It’s time for a reunion, and if he’s lucky he’ll make it out without getting his shit wrecked.(Formal intro of Bo Peep Shepard? IDK. Have a Shepard with your Shepard)





	Dossier: Angry Pink Monster

**Author's Note:**

> There. Now y'all know who she is if you don't check my tumblr. I love her, she is my giant pink daughter. One day I will write her smooching up on Tali.   
> Bo belongs to my friend Jenny. I use her with love and permission.

Somehow… this was in character for her 100%.

“And in the left corner, the undefeated champion of the ring, the biotic nightmare herself! Give it up for the Angry Pink Monster!”

A tinny voice crackled over a loudspeaker that was way too close to his ear. Alistair winced and one eye shut reflexively as the crowd around him erupted into cheers. Thanks to his seat, he had a great view of the ring below. It was a dirty thing, splattered with so many colors of blood that they had long since stopped trying to cover it up. The majority of it, however, was the rusty color that Krogans were so fond of spilling when you cracked them open.

It made sense; this was underground Krogan wrestling.

“Have you spotted her yet, Shepard?”

Miranda’s voice oozed into his ear through the hidden piece he had stuck there before leaving the Normandy. Had he been in his regular armor, that would have been in his helmet. Problem was, he wasn’t. The N7 might have stuck out among this particular crowd, particular because most of them were rather rotund and armor-plated.

Sometimes, it was better to dress down for these kinds of things. 

“She’ll be out soon.” Miranda hadn’t even needed to say it, of course. Alistair’s heart was pounding as he gazed down into the ring, waiting. Like always, he felt her before he saw her. A wave of energy crackled through the impromptu ring, popping some weaker lights in a spray of glass that bounced harmlessly off the hides of the fans. That was part of the show, or so the page had said.

Tonight only, the ring champ squaring off against one of the top rookies in his weight class. And oh, did the crowd cheer as their favorite fighter entered the ring first, coming from a side door towards the ring with quick, solid steps. Even out of armor, she was a marine.

The Angry Pink Monster as they called her was smaller and far more angular than most of her opponents by a good half head. Her eyes were focused on the door her challenger would come from, practically glowing in the light. Energy kept coming off her in waves, probably even without her really thinking about it.

After all, Bo Peep Shepard was known for being one of the most powerful biotics in the Alliance. This was child’s play for her.

“She’s 23 and 0. That’s one away from the ring record.” Miranda sounded like she was reading off a stat sheet from how bored her tone was. “Going to let her go for 24?”

“Yes. I like living.”

Alistair knew better than to get in between Bo and her fun. Honestly, he felt kind of bad for the poor Krogan she was going up against as he came out into the ring. The guy barely looked old enough to be an adult, and now he was going to be smacked against the wall like an over-sized ping pong ball. If he was lucky, he’d keep half his quad in the process.

Wherever the announcer was, they sounded excited as they got way too close to their mic. Their voice came out as a screech that mingled with the roar of the crowd as a bell dinged somewhere.“Get ready… and fight!”

—

“Records said she lives close to the ring.”

At least, that was what Miranda had said before Alistair had ‘accidentally’ turned off his earpiece. He still wasn’t used to having long hair again after all, so if he hit it while pushing his bangs out of his face it was only natural. He just hadn’t thought to check if it was on. If there was any real trouble, she would be able to reach him.

Petty? Absolutely. Fuck Cerberus.

It wasn’t hard to find Bo’s apartment, though. She had always wanted an easy, quick way to get out if shit got bad. Using her own habits against her, Alistair found himself standing in front of a lonely door where the number had long since fallen into the dust. Number 7’s occupant was home, if the sound of moving around was anything to go by.

He paused before he knocked on the door, frowning. “God, what do I say to her?”

Their last parting hadn’t been the warmest to say the least. Actually, it was downright frigid since he had been punted out of the destroyed Normandy by that bitch herself, lady vacuum of space. One of the last things he remembered before everything got fuzzy was her trying to reach for him, eyes wide as she just didn’t quite reach. Oh, he was going to catch hell for that one for sure.

Maybe he should have worn that armor…

Alistair shook his head as he focused back on the door. “Work on that later. Gotta get her now. Need all the help I can get.”

He would have knocked on the door, but it suddenly opened. There was Bo, out of her wrestling gear and looking rather annoyed. There was a bandage on her cheek – a souvenir from her 24th win – and behind her, the apartment was beyond messy. Actually, from the look of things she was packing up.

“Took you long enough. Get in here before somebody sees you.”

And then he was inside as she shut the door behind him. In fact, he nearly tripped over the heavy bag she had planted by the door, neatly zipped up and ready to go. Luckily, he landed back on the couch instead of flat on his reconstructed ass.

“I guess you knew I was coming then?”

Alistair couldn’t help but smile as he removed his hat – someone had said it was polite once – and looked up at his host. Bo hadn’t changed much in the two years since they had been apart. Maybe she had a few more scars and an extra inch or so of muscle, but the basic model was unmodified. Which was good… because that definitely wasn’t the case with him. At least one of them was still the original edition.

Bo didn’t answer. Instead, she headed towards what he assumed was her bedroom. She was soon out, holding something in her arms. This she handed to him without much ceremony as she stooped down to pick up her bag.

He had been given charge of a bear. Or, rather, Bear. The little teddy bear was as good as always, even had his own little backpack to go with the move. He matched his owner as she adjusted the heavy bag on one shoulder like it weighed nothing at all. For her, it probably didn’t.

“Saw you in the stands. Nobody else likes the Luna Bats.” Her eyes found his. “Get over here. I want to see that fancy new eye of yours better.”

That wasn’t an invitation for a hug – he knew better. But Alistair did indeed move into range, Bear still in his arms. Bo gave him a critical once over, pausing at various areas for unknown reasons. Well, not when she got to his hair. He knew that one all too well.

“Don’t say it.”

“That has got to be a pain in the ass with a helmet on.” Bo’s voice was dry as she finished checking her belongings. “Come on, let’s get out of here before my fan girls realize I’m leaving.”

Then she briefly paused as she grabbed something boxy from a table near the door. “Handle this for me.”

And then there was a cage thrust into his arms just as he adjusted Bear. The occupant glared up at him with blue eyes while their furry little body buried deeper into the substrate. It was clearly past their bedtime and he was being a nuisance.

Because that’s what he did with space hamsters, apparently.

“His name’s Saren. Consider him a welcome back present.” Was all Bo said as she left her apartment, pausing only to lock the door. Alistair, eyes wide, was left standing there with his new little friend. Any show of gratitude was put on hold, however, as he soon had to scamper after her. Apparently, today he was the animal handler.

No sweat. Just like old times.

Still, even with the gift he wasn’t off the hook completely. The pair stopped near the transport depot briefly. Maybe it was because Bo had to adjust her bag, or something had occurred to her. Those sharp eyes were back on him, and he was back under interrogation.

“Who put you back together?”

Alistair winced – oh how he had been dreading this. He nudged Saren a little to the left, just in case, as he stared out a nearby window. Ships of various levels of shitty were zooming by, making their way off to illicit ports unknown. Right then, they looked like toys someone had left in the dark and forgotten about when dinner time came.

This wasn’t going to be pleasant.

“Cerberus.” Before she could react, he held up his hands. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to steal the ship once we’re finished!”

If by steal, he meant dock it in alliance bay and run for his life, then yes. He was going to steal the fuck out of it. Still, it did nothing for the rage that filled Bo’s eyes. At least Bear was there to relieve some of the tension. She gave him a quick squeeze, but he could feel her anger from a half foot away.

Maybe it was a good thing he had told her before she saw the ship.

“Cerberus put you back together?” She scowled. “And you want to work with them? They’re the fuckers who set that thresher maw on us!”

He nodded, a similar scowl on his own face. “I know. Believe me, it was on my mind the minute I found out. Imagine waking up in the middle of an outright takeover and there’s Cerberus logos everywhere. Rude awakening doesn’t even cover it.”

Alistair sighed as he leaned his chin on the small ledge in front of the window. Right then, he swore he could feel every one of his new, artificial parts. He still hadn’t gotten the official count on how much they had replaced yet, and honestly he didn’t want to know. Meat and tubes didn’t sound good at all.

At least he still had his tattoos.

Next to him, Bo punched her fist into her hand with enough force to knock a Krogan back. “I assume we’re going to fuck with them.”

“Well, yeah, I wasn’t born yesterday.” Technically, two years ago, but same deal. “Right now I’m playing nice and trying to find out where the cameras are.”

At least that calmed her down. “We got a team or what?”

“Not yet, but after we get you settled there’s an Archangel we have to check out.” When Bo snickered, he cocked his eyebrow. “Dare I ask?”

It was pretty rare to hear Bo laugh, after all. Usually it meant somebody was about to get their ass kicked. Hopefully, it wasn’t going to be his. With a name like Archangel, he had to wonder if they might have met in the ring.

Great, just what he needed: a vigilante Krogan wrestler. Joker was right, he did collect weirdos. Maybe he should switch to plates after all.

“I’ll tell you when we find him.” Bo picked up her bag again. “Come on, don’t I have some Cerberus bitches to knock the fuck out?”

“Oh, you have no idea.”There was a surprising spring to Alistair’s step as he followed after her towards the port that would take them back to the Normandy, Saren and Bear in tow. “Let me tell you about Miranda Lawson.”


End file.
